Pampered Into Submission
by Gatekat
Summary: Knights of Light. Drift/Wing. Two vorns after bringing Drift to New Crystal City, Wing goes about trying to convert Drift in a new, and slightly unconventional way.


Fandom: Transformers G1  
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ  
Pairings: Drift/Wing  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: Sticky, Dub-Con, Bondage  
Summary: Two vorns after bringing Drift to New Crystal City, Wing goes about trying to convert Drift in a new, and slightly unconventional way.

**The full story is 15K words and NC-17 for sticky and bondage, so head over to Ao3 for the bulk of it  
archiveofourown dot org/works/585983  
I think I hate FFN's fragging of URLs more than their shift in adult content policy.**

**Pampered Into Submission**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing flopped down onto his berth, letting out a gusty sigh through his vents. Resting his chin on his crossed wrists and letting his wings flop open onto the berth surface, he gazed over at his reluctant roommate.

Since bringing Drift to the hidden city of the Circle of Light and having him repaired, Wing had been doing everything he could think of to get the Decepticon to settle into his new home. He had tried fighting, speaking to the Decepticon in a language he understood very well. He had tried seduction, but Drift didn't seem to have any grasp of an emotional connection with physical pleasure. The white jet had tried teaching Drift, trying to educate him. All that had gotten him was a sneer and statements about how useless education was. Wing had taken Drift around the city, showing him all it had to offer, but Drift only seemed to grow angrier and more resentful.

The white jet was frustrated to deactivation. He wasn't sure what to do next. Drift was probably the stubbornest mech he had ever dealt with. He was even worse than Dai Atlas when the big blue Knight was really digging in his heel-plates, and that was saying something.

Huffing another sigh, Wing let his optics dim slightly as he watched Drift, trying to figure out what he was going to do next.

The half-white mech was using a cloth to clean himself, though he wasn't dirty. After more than two vorns, Wing knew Drift's need to be active very well. It was part of the mech's mental health to always be _doing_ something. It wasn't a bad trait, but it could be very depressing to watch given the mech refused to read, didn't like to talk, didn't have any weapons and couldn't leave these quarters unescorted.

Wing was sure Drift was well aware of the attention on him, but it would be several more kliks of silence before he snarled about it.

One red-trimmed leg idly kicked at the air as Wing continued to watch Drift, his golden gaze sliding over the white armor, watching the motion of the polishing cloth. That was another thing he'd noticed... Drift liked to be clean. Maybe there was some potential there?

"What?" Drift barked at him with an aggressive growl of his powerful grounder engine. Despite the display, Wing had long ago learned that Drift didn't really mean anything by it. That was just the only way he seemed to know how to communicate.

"Just thinking." Wing gave the surly mech a bright smile, twitching his audial flares. He knew his cheerfulness got on the half-white mech's nerves most of the time, but it was how he was.

Pale blue optics, something Drift still wasn't pleased about, lifted to glare at the jet. "About me."

Wing tilted his head to the side, fanning out his audial flares. One wing twitched, folding to his back. "Why not? You're an interesting, exasperating mech."

The snarl Drift graced him with silent before he went back to rubbing the cloth on his arm.

The white jet smiled slightly, going back to his watching. A germ of an idea was beginning to take shape in the back of his processor. He let it develop on its own as he continued to watch the intriguing, exasperating, growly mech he'd brought to the city.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Wing hummed cheerfully to himself as he all but bounced back to his quarters. Other Knights he passed in the corridors gave him sideways looks, wondering about his cheerful mood and the lack of his surly, growling shadow. The white jet ignored the looks as he took the lift up to his floor, trotting to his quarters and unlocking the door.

Drift, to no great surprise, gave him a glare and huff from his preferred corner with a view of both door and balcony before going back to pretending to ignore him.

The white jet greeted his roommate with an entirely too chipper trill that was replied to with Drift's patented snarl. It was a look and sound that Wing had learned to categorize as 'as socially agreeable as Drift knew how to be' since it meant Drift acknowledged him and wasn't attacking. Both major advances in Wing's opinion. Bouncing across the room he began pulling packages from his subspace. Golden optics flicked over Drift, noting the lack of the sparring paint that had turned Drift more blue than white earlier that orn. He couldn't be surprised. Drift inevitably had one thing on his processors after a post-sparring overload: remove the evidence of Wing's victory from his frame. It was really rather cute in a way. Cleaning up was such a civilized act.

Pale blue optics flicked up, watching Wing's movements and taking note of each item, though Drift said nothing of it. When Wing didn't move to pull another item from subspace, Drift rose to his pedes with the silent, deadly grace that spoke as much to a warrior heritage as Wing's did and stalked forward.

A black hand closed on Wing's arm and tugged him towards the berth, causing Wing to let out a chirp of surprise. Against his plating, Drift's field was its typical cacophony of conflicting emotions, but dominant was the edgy buzz of _need_ that Wing belatedly realized hadn't been dealt with after their sparring lessons. Gold optics cycled briefly, then Wing realized what was going on. Flashing a bright grin at Drift, he allowed himself to be tugged over to the berth. One wingtip sneaked out to brush ever so lightly against Drift's side.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

for the rest of the story, which is NC-17 for sticky and bondage, head over to Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/585983  
I think I hate FFN's fragging of URLs more than their shift in adult content policy.


End file.
